Queer Eye, the Netflix reboot of the early 2000s unscripted Bravo hit, has positioned itself as the ultimate makeover show. The concept is simple: Five queer men (Antoni Porowski, Tan France, Karamo Brown, Bobby Berk, and Jonathan Van Ness) spend a week with someone, helping to improve every aspect of their life. What makes the show stand out beyond its dynamite hosts, whose chemistry can brighten the darkest day, is their unique approach.
It’s not just about a home renovation, learning to cook, or a new wardrobe (all of which happen in every episode). The Fab Five also encourage self-love and self-care. The show has earned a reputation for finding emotional honesty in the confines of reality TV, regularly delivering hilarious and touching moments in equal measure. Now entering an eighth season (streaming on Netflix Jan. 24), the Fab Five head to New Orleans to change lives, and look good doing it.
The show is at its best when the hosts forge genuine connections with the people whose lives they’re changing. Take the season’s lovely standout, “Protect the Nest,” in which JVN—who gives his whole heart to every episode, and just might be the single most charming television personality in recent memory—bonds with deaf athletics director Denton. Unfortunately, these kinds of moments, the bread and butter of Queer Eye, are few and far between this season.
Everything in Season 8 feels surface-level, lacking the insightful depth of last season’s “Superfan Steph,” or “Preaching Out Loud” in Season 5. There’s no genuine knockout story that’ll leave you a weeping mess. It's strange to see the show settle for decent when it’s so often been great.
Season 8 struggles with some uncomfortable product placement, which sticks out like a sore thumb. In “Kiss the Sky,” Tan mentions that all the clothes he’s picked out are by a particular designer named John Varvatos… which certainly means nothing to the man he’s making over, Tim, who dresses mostly in KISS merchandise. Tan is excellent at connecting to people and finds clothes that boost the confidence of everyone he meets. Has he ever name-dropped a designer before? If the goal of Queer Eye is to create sustainable change for the people they’re helping, pushing a $188 shirt on someone who’s recently lost his job feels very much against the spirit of the show.
It’s intriguing to see Queer Eye toy with its template a little, even if the changes don’t always work. “The Flying Nun” introduces a dating aspect to the standard formula, with former nun Alison introduced to a different potential romantic interest after each session with one of the Fab Five. It’s a sweet idea, but feels forced—and it’s a little uncomfortable, watching someone flirt through a mini-date while one of the hosts sits smiling in the corner of the frame. If the show wants to properly take these people’s lives to the next level, it would benefit from making it less about the Fab Five and more about the person they’re trying to help.
There’s no denying the impact Queer Eye has had on culture as a whole. Like the original series, it’s opened the world up to five unapologetically queer people, and that’s a wonderful thing. A lot of that charm is still present—watching the Fab Five interact with each other is as affirming as ever—but the show has become repetitive this late into its run. All six episodes (this is the shortest season yet) lack spark and surprise. There’s still plenty of big transformations and revelations, but everything feels like a rehash of what we’ve seen before. After so many years, maybe it’s Queer Eye itself that needs a makeover.
